


General Scales Can Get It

by PGT



Category: Star Fox Series, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blood Kink, Come Inflation, Crack Relationships, Fighting Kink, Gay Sex, Hemipenis, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, excessive cum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:36:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24730123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PGT/pseuds/PGT
Summary: Ganon and General Scales Fuck
Relationships: Ganondorf/General Scales
Kudos: 10





	General Scales Can Get It

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so my good man General Scales is only present in 3 fics and that needed to change. So here's me writing that good gay shit.

Ganon threw Scales against the wall, smirking at the burn his muscles felt in restraining the general’s thrashing body. He was strong, clawed hands digging into his forearm, clawed feet finding purchase on his thighs and digging in. A fight with someone of pure brutish strength was something he’d been missing for a damned long time. Hylians always relied on weapons, and while Gerudo like himself also used them, they weren’t dependent. He was happy to take the militant Sharpclaw on with his own two hands.

With the man pinned with one hand, he took the dual-hooked proesthetic from Scales’ left wrist and twisted the device, detaching it in a single movement. He tossed it to the wayside. That still left the general with three appendages of sharp talons, Ganon himself only able to bruise and batter. Even with gouges in his thighs and arms, he smiled. He let the anger take over, not even considering to pull his punches as they landed, a brutal fist to the lizard’s jaw casting his gaze upward, and a knee to the stomach causing the man to thrash his tail wildly and curse in his mother tongue.

For all the blood dripping from his body, Ganon knew he was winning. The fight hadn’t started with him pinning the general, but it was going to end here. He was barely in control, watching as his fist crashed into Scales’ ribcage over and over, until the green scales lost their shape, and became a more muted color, brown whether by some old-age defense mechanism or the red of internal bleeding tarnishing the vibrant green. He watched as the general’s left arm clung uselessly to the arm that restrained him, watched his legs as they climbed up his thighs, leaving deep valleys he was too blissed out to feel. a taloned heel reached his stomach, and with strength he must have been saving, the Sharpclaw thrust Ganon away.

Ganon caught himself after only two steps, but that was enough for the general. He’d already made a wide arc around Ganon, body hunched in an aggressive state. his clawed hand flexed, warm blood dripping from each talon onto the floor. his forearms were coated in it-- both of theirs were. It made Ganon dizzy in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time-- and it wasn’t blood loss, or else he wouldn’t have enough to feel the strain of his pants against his cock.

“Slippery bastard,” he snarled, wishing he was in a form better suited to fighting. If he’d had tusks, the Lizard would have been gored by now. as it was he was just his Gerudo self, large and imposing, but no better than a hylian at trading blows.

“Shouldn’t have lost your grip. I could have done better.” Scales lifted his left arm, a taunt that stood no ground but boiled Ganon’s blood nonetheless. He was a competitive soul and that shit wasn’t going to stand without punishment.

He stalked forward, and Scales stood his ground. Good, he wasn’t going to play cat and mouse, and an opponent that favored dodging over trading blows wasn’t someone he had interest in wasting time with. He swung, aiming for the side he hadn’t gotten when Scales had been pinned. Though he wasn’t Lizalfos he was almost as fast, rising on his toes to pull his body backward, while using the momentum to fall back onto his arms, using his feet to push into Ganon’s chest, six holes piercing each pec. He pushed off into a flip, and Ganon took another few steps to stabilize. He felt the small of his back against a counter, and while it kept him from falling, it allowed Scales to corner him, and at the cost of letting Ganon land a blow in the center of his chest, Scales curled his claws around Ganon’s throat and _squeezed_.

Ganon’s arms hadn’t been immobilized, but as he moved to throw Scales off the point of each finger tightened against his throat, and the threat of getting his jugular ripped open was suddenly very real. Throwing the man away would cause the claws to rake his skin open, and suddenly this wouldn’t be his fight to win.

So he settled his hands on the man’s waist, where he’d been about to take him and toss him. If someone walked in and took no notice of the blood, they might mistake their pose for a lovers embrace-- The way Scales forced Ganon’s chin up with his wrist and met the gerudo’s eyes, Ganon was half convinced himself.

“I wasn’t joking. You always do underestimate your opponents.” Scales might be smiling, Ganon wasn’t sure. But his expression had an air of possession, of primal greed, of hunger. His mouth opened, lines of teeth like blades themselves parting. Ganon forced himself not to shrink back as the man’s head dipped forward, hot breath meeting Ganon’s jaw, deadly teeth nipping teasingly at the skin, just enough that it didn’t break.

“I don’t underestimate anyone, thats the difference between you and I.” he spoke against Ganon’s ear, and shivers rippled down his spine, stirring his loins. Scales bit his earlobe, and Ganon knew it must be bleeding. He supposed it was payback for the stream that fell from Scales’ nostrils, from the blow that had initiated their dispute.

“You’re strong, strong enough to choke me, pin me down and have your way with me...” His claws scraped against Ganon’s throat, hard enough that he knew red lines must follow his nails, but no telltale warmth began to drip. “And yet here I am on top.”

The Sharpclaw’s fanged mouth traced the outline of the Gerudo’s neck, and for all the power he knew he had Ganon had never felt so soft. A ring of blades formed around his shoulder and pressed down, and Scales marked Ganon as His. Sharp pain echoed through the force just as much as his arousal spiked. Scales ran his tongue over each perforation and Ganon wanted nothing more than to taste his own blood on the general’s tongue. He took a hand off the man’s waist to direct his face to his, ignoring the tightening of claws against his neck and leaning in for a kiss.

It was a kiss like no other Ganon had ever experienced-- it was all tongue, and it was housed entirely in his own mouth. the Sharpclaw’s mouth wasn’t built for this kind of gesture, and Ganon made no attempt to shape it into one. He let the general’s tongue fill his mouth, lapping at his rounded teeth and taking in his taste, while Ganon battled for dominance with a far less powerful muscle. He moaned at the taste of his own blood, at the power Scales had over him, at the strength of the man’s core that he could feel under his fingers where they rested on his hips.

They had a mutual admiration and that was enough, for just this moment. Ganon allowed himself to believe that they were even, that they were equal, that he was letting Scales pin him here, that he was letting the Sharpclaw turn him around and bend him over the counter. He was letting Scales tear his pants to ribbons with clawed feet, that he could stand and take the man just as easily if he wanted. And perhaps that was true. For now, it was enough to just believe it. He let Scales push his ankles apart, and he let the general direct his own hands to his ass, let himself be told to “spread your ass, show it to me.”

And he did, feeling himself up as he exposed himself to the man he knew was about to fuck him so deep he would forget he was trying to destroy worlds. The cool air only graced him for a moment before the lizard’s tongue was flush against his puckered hole, leaving it slicked and warm. the appendage flexed in ways Ganon had never felt, never known, never thought to desire. It had him slack-jawed as the tongue pushed in an inch, the girth of the thing spreading his hole and preparing it for the main event.

His cock, now free of the confines of his pants, hung heavily below him, twelve inches long and wider than the master sword dribbled earnestly against the tile. Scales made no move to address it, though each stroke of his long tongue against his ass did tease his perineum and the backside of his balls enough that he wanted more. With his hands spreading himself wide, he couldn’t touch himself, and bucking forward into the granite of the counter only left him recoiling at the cool stone.

Scales must have noticed his needy motion, tongue slipping out of his hole with a wet pop. “Need something?” He teased Ganon where his thigh met his torso, the crease sensitive and so close to his cock.

It dawned on Ganon that the bastard was going to make him beg for it.

He snarled, and the Sharpclaw laughed. There was no telling when that mouth was curled in a smile, but his voice always betrayed his emotion. He was enjoying this and Ganon had half the mind to turn around and show the fucker who was king around here.

The wet trail of Scales’ saliva against his hole reminded him what he’d be losing, in doing that. It wasn’t every day he met someone worth taking it in the ass.

But like hell he was going to beg.

He kept his mouth shut. Scales trailed his tongue lightly everywhere but his cock. He wanted to scream.

“You can phrase it as an order if that’ll untwist your damned panties,” the Sharpclaw conceded, betraying just how hungry he was for this, too. Ganon was happy to compromise.

“You’d better have a cock in my ass and a hand on my dick before I decide you’re the one getting fucked, Scales,” He snarled with authority. It was almost convincing.

Whether Scales actually cared who was fucking who, he rewarded Ganon’s demands, hand snaking past thick thighs to cup his balls. Ganon felt his claws graze the skin of his balls and perineum, and his heart skipped a beat. There was no denying who was in power now. But fuck it, it felt good. He let his head fall forward as Scales stood, reaching around to take the length of Ganon’s cock and lining his own up, the wet velvety flesh rubbing against the crevice. Scales jerked him off, hand slick with Ganon’s precum and blood as he pumped, claw tracing the prominent vein on the underside. When the head of the Sharpclaw’s cock pressed into Ganon, they both groaned. Scales from the tight wetness, Ganon from the strain of his unprepared hole. It was nothing compared to the pain of Scales’ claws against his thigh, but it would still be sore in the morning. The general eased into Ganon, his cock shaping his intestines to its shape until his thighs were flush, his second cock rubbing against Ganon’s balls.

Ganon had half a mind to tell him to hurry the hell up, tell him exactly how hard he wanted that cock to fuck him, that he’d better have both cocks inside him by the end of this. The thought alone, too close to begging, had him a deep shade of red. But he didn’t have to beg, Scales no gentle lover himself. Once bottomed out, he pulled out fully, and in a swift movement he was back in, and setting a pace that had Ganon reaching for the edges of the counter and holding on. His hand stroked in tandem, And Ganon allowed himself to drown in sensation, in pleasure, in friction and fullness. Scales bit down on Ganon’s shoulder-- he hardly noticed it. He could hear his moans, could hear the hisses and growls that burst from Scales’ chest. A clawed foot dug against the back of his calf, Scales tongue lapped at newly flowing blood, and the pressure was building in his stomach. Unfortunately, Scales didn’t seem to have any interest in fitting both cocks into Ganon. When Scales finally came, Ganon was silently thankful that he hadn’t.

Because there was just _so much_. the warm fluid found every empty space, and when no space was left it kept on coming, pooling inside of him and distending his stomach. Scales rutted against his ass in a desperate, erratic pattern, pushing the cum deeper and stirring his insides. The pressure shifting against his prostate was enough. His cock pulsed against the clawed hand, his cum splashing against the counter, the floor, oozing into a pool around his feet, soaking the shredded fabric of his forgotten pants. When Scales pulled out, Ganon fell to his knees wheezing, the pool of cum growing beneath him as what had been trapped inside of him began to spill out. The general found himself laying against the cool stone of the floor, panting with his tongue lolled out, spent cocks slowly slinking back into the slit they'd come from.

No words passed between them. It would ruin it, and neither had come to their standings by not knowing when to keep their mouths shut. Ganon called a servant to prepare a bath, and with it came linen bandages and a platter of hearty durians. Evidently, they’d not been quiet in their enjoyment. But Ganon bore no shame, and by the content flicker of the general’s tail, he didn’t seem to mind either. After a bath-- Ganon had gestured for the Sharpclaw to bathe first, as though they were world dominators he was still a good host-- Scales walked to his prosthetic hook and reaffixed it to his wrist. There were no parting words, only a shared nod as Ganon eased himself into fresh bathwater. He reassured himself that Scales could find where the exit was. In the back of his mind, he hoped the Sharpclaw would visit frequently enough to remember it.


End file.
